


golden

by ohjustpeachy



Series: Tony Stark Bingo Fills [22]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustpeachy/pseuds/ohjustpeachy
Summary: “You’re like. Like a golden retriever.”Steve laughs now, the sound soft and rumbling in a way that Tony swears he can feel right in his chest.“Am I?”Tony nods emphatically. “Yes. Big and ... gentle. And careful. And friendly! People looove you.”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark Bingo Fills [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601260
Comments: 12
Kudos: 232
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo Mark IV





	golden

**Author's Note:**

> Title: golden  
> Collaborator Name: peachy  
> Card Number: 4017  
> Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671867  
> Square Filled: R1: writing format: flashfic  
> Ship/Main Pairing: steve/tony  
> Rating: G  
> Major Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, tony stark has a heart,  
> Summary: “You’re like. Like a golden retriever.”  
> Steve laughs now, the sound soft and rumbling in a way that Tony swears he can feel right in his chest.  
> “Am I?”  
> Tony nods emphatically. “Yes. Big and ... gentle. And careful. And friendly! People looove you.”   
> Word Count: 613

The first thing Tony notices when he comes to is that Steve is there, right beside his bed. 

_Steve!_ _Here!_ His heart sings.

He’s slumped over in a chair, maybe sleeping, which is good. Sleep is so, so good. Steve should sleep more. Tony _always_ tells him to sleep more, but Steve just does that funny smile and calls him a kettle. Or a pot. A kitchen instrument, definitely. 

There’s something warm in Tony’s hand, and he thinks, vaguely, that it might be _Steve’s_ hand, but he doesn’t want to confirm or deny this fact, so he decides not to look. 

_Schrodinger’s hand._

This idea makes him laugh, though Tony’s not entirely sure if the sound leaves his mouth before he’s out again. 

*

When he wakes up again, Tony’s head still feels fuzzy, and Steve is still there. The chorus in his chest sings again, louder this time. 

_Still here, still here, still here!_

“Steve!” Tony says, because his head is cloudy with ... something, and Steve is here, and he has to know Tony’s so happy to see him. 

“Tony,” Steve says, his voice gravelly with sleep. “You’re awake!” He smiles at him, and it’s like the heat of the sun, or warm sand, or a hot bath. _All_ of those things. 

“You want to take a bath?” Steve’s eyes are amused, if a little confused. 

God, he said that out loud. 

“Um. No, no bath,” Tony mumbles. 

“Okay,” Steve says easily. “You came through the surgery so well. No complications. Just a lot of painkillers, I think.” 

_Painkillers_. That explains it. 

Steve smiles at him again. “Do you need anything? Water, or...” 

Tony blinks a few times. Water would be nice, now that he thinks about it. His throat feels like a desert, hot and way too dry. He feels himself nod, and Steve pours him a glass of water, carefully placing a straw in the cup and holding it out to him. 

_Gentle._

He’s so big and everything he does is so _gentle._

Tony drinks greedily, because water is _so good actually, and Steve is here, and holding the cup for him, and..._

_“_ Easy,” Steve says, pulling the cup back. “Go slow, okay?”

Tony nods. 

“You’re like. Like a golden retriever.”

Steve laughs now, the sound soft and rumbling in a way that Tony swears he can feel right in his chest.

“Am I?”

Tony nods emphatically. “ _Yes_. Big and ... gentle. And careful. And friendly! People looove you.” 

_I love you,_ the chorus seems to say.

“People love you, too,” Steve says, but something is different in his voice now.

“Nope, not the same,” Tony argues. They do that sometimes. Argue. He wants to stop, though. He hates arguing with Steve. He _loves_ Steve.

“We don’t argue that much,” Steve says quietly. “Not so much anymore.”

_Whoops_.

“Sorry, I’m...” Tony makes a face, which makes Steve laugh again, and the chorus in his heart starts singing all over again. 

“It’s okay,” Steve assures him. “They have you on a lot of medicine. You should try to get some more sleep. You need to rest.” 

Tony wants to ask why Steve’s there, why he hasn’t left, if he was holding his hand earlier. But sleeps sounds nice. 

_So nice._

“Don’t go, okay?” Tony hears himself say. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve tells him softly. 

“Good. Maybe you could... hold my hand again,” Tony says, just before his eyes slip shut again. 

He doesn’t feel Steve slip their hands together again, or the look of fond surprise that flickers over his face at Tony’s request. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve repeats, long after Tony’s asleep. There’d be time to talk about that tomorrow. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! :) I'm omg-just-peachy on tumblr, come say hi!


End file.
